I knew that I had to draw the line.
In that moment, I knew.
Her face divested of idealisation.
There she was.
Plain, cruel, ugly.
I nodded and concluded what we had in silence.
She had always been an unbearable child.
With every year that passed.
She liked to throw stones and laugh.
Throw tantrums in the middle of the night.
Her weight on the crackling wood.
Envy and violence glued to her cowardly eyes.
“Woman in Green Dress” by Lajos Tihanyi (1885-1938)